Heavy Issues (25 page)

“Not here for that.”

Just like that, asshole, withdrawn Cole was back and old unguarded Cole was gone. And boy did she miss him.

* * * *

Rosita’s doorbell rang, taking Christy out of her reverie. Elle went to open. Three police officers marched in, cuffs in hands. And with one swift movement…they ripped off their own pants.

Oh God, the strippers.

Most of the bunnies, dead tired on the chairs two seconds before, were now up and screaming.

The strippers jumped on the counter, and the girls gathered in front of them, whistling and catcalling, money already waving in their hands.

Holly approached Elle. “James is going to kill us.”

“But what a way to go, right?” The girl smirked. “Besides, they’re here just to strip and dance. Strictly hands-off.”

“Tell that to this horde throwing money at them.” It was going to be easy to keep Tate away from them; it was going to be more difficult to keep them alive and in one piece.

After the show, Paige, the girl Christy recognized as the Gothic waitress who had served them when she and Cole came to supper at Rosita’s a while back, cleared the counter and began preparing mojitos. She looked the weirdest of them all. Fishnet stockings, military boots, that leather choker around her neck, and all those piercings on her face didn’t mix too well with the bunny outfit. In fact, the contrast was so blatant and outrageous it was cool as hell. She’d had to swat men away all night long. Same for Elle, although the latter for different reasons. Elle was just gorgeous. Brazen and sweet at the same time.

By the second round of mojitos, the music was blasting from the stereo, three girls were dancing on the tables, and Tate was dancing on the counter. It was sometime around the third round that James and his bachelor party came to Rosita’s.

“Girls, prepare your Franklins. We got more strippers!” someone shouted, and the rest cheered.

James rolled his eyes, walked to where Tate was dancing, and left the two six-packs he was carrying on it. The second she saw him, a huge smile broke across her face. She slid down the counter and threw herself at him. He looked at her shirt, said something in her ear, and she laughed.

The rest of James’s party marched into Rosita’s. Whoa, talk about eye candy. Christy hadn’t seen so many hunks together in her whole life. No wonder some girls had thought them to be more strippers. She didn’t recognize many of them, just Max and Mike and…yeah, there he was: Cole. Her heart all but stopped at the sight of him. He was so damn beautiful; every time she saw him it hit her anew and she forgot how to breathe. He nodded at her, but he didn’t come closer. Her gut clenched, but she fought to ignore it. He’d obviously only been interested in spending time with her in public for the sake of appearances, because now that she’d put a stop to the fake dates, he went to great lengths not to be anywhere near her in public. True, she’d insisted on not socializing, but she hadn’t said anything about being treated as a pariah. Whatever, it was okay. O-kay. Peachy.

When Cole spotted Elle, he marched toward her. “I thought we agreed no strippers.”

She winked at him. “No, we agreed no lap dances. Big difference. Hey, you brought along the Borg,” she said, waving to a huge, scary-looking man who seemed to be grinding his jaw. He didn’t blink, didn't acknowledge Elle anyhow, but she just laughed and swayed toward him.

The impromptu party kicked in right away.

As Christy moved to the counter to leave her empty mojito glass and pick up a beer, a guy Max had introduced her to but whose name she couldn’t for the life of her remember, came to help. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was one of James’s associates.

“Need any help…bunny number six?” he asked, looking at the text on her shirt.

It looked like she wasn’t the only one with name amnesia. “Forgotten my name?”

He smirked. “Guilty as charged. Sorry. I’m Zack.”

She put her hand out. “Christy. You know, tonight I’ve been called ‘bunny number six’ so many times it feels weird to hear my name. Although it was worse when I was standing near Sophie, who happens to be bunny number nine. You wouldn’t believe the shit I heard about that.”

He barked out a laugh. “Yep, I can imagine. I bet those outfits were a riot wherever you were. We were lucky. Max wanted us all to wear togas, but Cole vetoed the whole idea. Thank God.”

Christy chuckled. “A toga-themed bachelor party?” Zack assented. Man, that would have been something. Although on second thought, it was better this way. She could barely resist Cole as it was; having him half-naked and wrapped in a blanket would be overkill. Cole would have hated it, though. No wonder he’d vetoed it.

“I get you aren’t a big fan of togas either, are you?”

“No, not really. But if I’d have known I was going to be meeting such cute bunnies, I’d have considered it. Kind of sexy, don’t you think? Elle and Max should have synchronized their efforts.”

She laughed. “Sure, you could have come dressed as lumberjacks and us as Little Red Riding Hoods.”

“My thoughts exactly. Although being the wolf would be more my speed.”

“You look too nice to be the wolf.”

“That’s my charm blinding you. It’s part of my technique.”

Christy laughed again. They talked for a while. Zack was funny and great company.

“So, Christy, what are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked as she took a sip of her beer. She spilled some on herself, and Zack swept her chin with his fingers.

In no time Cole was there. And he was mad. Spitting fire from his nostrils would have been a more fitting description.

“Hi, Cole. I’m trying to convince Christy here to go out with me tomorrow.”

It was a testament to how distracted Zack was with Christy that he didn’t realize the sudden danger he was in.

“Not going to happen.”

Zack looked at him with curiosity. “Have I stepped into someone else’s territory?”

“Yes.”

“No,” Christy answered, appalled that they were referring to her as “territory.”

“She’s mine.”

“Sorry, my man, I didn’t know you were together,” Zack apologized, lifting his hands.

Christy gritted her teeth. “You’re getting the wrong impression. Cole and I are not together. He doesn’t do relationships. Too draining. He wouldn’t mind us going out.”

A growl escaped Cole's throat. “Christy…”

She knew it was dangerous to poke him, but damn if she didn’t feel like it. After all, they had a booty-call kind of relationship. He really shouldn’t have any say about who she socialized with. Feeling emboldened, she turned to Cole and waved at him. “Now, Cole, be a good boy and be on your way. Zack was about to show me how he looks in a toga.”

“NOW, COLE, BE a good boy and be on your way. Zack was about to show me how he looks in a toga.”

No fucking way in hell.

Over his fucking dead body.

“I could show you my wolf teeth too,” Zack suggested with a shit-eating smirk on his face. Cole had no clue what that wolf-teeth comment was all about, but he didn’t like it one bit.

“Don’t even dream about it.”

Cole had popped a blood vessel the second he entered Rosita’s and saw Christy in that outfit, barefoot, almost sprawled on the seat, laughing with her friends. All soft and relaxed, her hair all over the place, her light makeup a bit smudged. He’d seen that look many times, right after fucking her. She was so damn beautiful his eyes ached.

He’d itched to go to her and kiss her, but he’d refrained from that impulse. It’d been damn difficult, but he’d stayed away, grinding his teeth while James had introduced her to the rest, and those shmucks kissed and shook hands with her. She was oblivious to the fact that they were salivating over her, but he wasn't. He knew how the male mind worked too damn well, because he was salivating himself.

He’d curbed his knuckle-dragging, Neanderthal instincts…barely, until Zack had made a move on her. Then his whole head had exploded, white-hot rage and possessiveness driving him to her. He loved the guy, but he was ready to rip his arms off just for standing near her. For touching her, he was ready to kill him.

But what the fuck did he expect? Christy was all but naked in that fucking bunny outfit. He would need a ten-foot electrified fence to keep guys away from her. He should have been hovering over her, growling at anyone who dared to look at her twice. Instead of that, dumb-ass that he was, he’d left her alone. Great move.

What he hadn’t expected was for Christy to shoo him away and deny their involvement once he’d gotten his ass into gear.

He knew he’d pushed for casual, but he hadn’t known it would hurt so fucking much to live up to it.

“She’s going nowhere with you, feel me?” he said to Zack, his voice low and dangerous, and then turned to Christy. “Can I talk to you?” he asked through gritted teeth. His feral expression worked on Zack, but it did jack shit for Christy, who just rolled her eyes, a tight smile on her face. She was trying to hide it, but she was pissed. Which was just as well, because he was pissed too.

To make things worse, the stupid ache in his chest, the one he’d had since she’d dumped him, was getting worse with every passing second.

“We don’t talk, remember?” she said to him and then smiled apologetically at Zack. “Forgive Cole for being so rude. He’s just too used to everyone obeying him. So where were we? Ah, yes, my plans for tomorrow. I'm free. Sure, I’ll go out with you.”

Fury rolled off him in waves. But there was more. All the feelings that had been running rampant through him this last week now came rushing to the forefront, trampling over each other, robbing him of breath. Most of them he had no name for, but one he recognized. It was lust. Gut-twisting, eye-blinding, old-fashioned lust. He’d go with that one.

Before he could think it through, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the back stairs, the ones leading up to Tate’s old apartment.

“What the fuck are you playing at? Do you want to get Zack pounded into the ground?”

“You don’t get to—”

Once the door was closed, he lifted her and, pinning her against the wall with his hips, took her mouth in a punishing kiss. He wanted to devour her. Inhale her. Get inside her so deep they couldn’t be pulled apart again. So that she wouldn’t dare to think they weren’t involved even for a second.

Without breaking the kiss, he yanked his belt off and bound her wrists together with it. She whimpered. The place was dim, but he could see her eyes. The second she realized what he had in mind, they’d widened, her whole body shuddering with arousal. He wrapped her legs around his thighs and then forced her arms up, holding her hands over her head by one end of the strip of leather.

“Cole—”

“You’re mine,” he said with a growl into her mouth as he yanked her skirt up. She moaned and he swallowed it, his kiss urgent, claiming her roughly with his tongue. “You don’t let anyone else touch you.”

Her beaded nipples grazing his chest, he unzipped his pants and directed his cock to her parted, damp folds. He groaned and drove in to the hilt while she arched her back, offering herself to him, panting against his mouth.

“God, you feel amazing, babe. So fucking good.”

She was hot and wet, and he was going out of his mind. Loud music was blasting from the other side of the door, but he could hear not a thing besides the blood roaring in his ears.

Her sweet pussy greedily pulled him in while she squeezed him with her legs and dug her heels into his ass. Kissing her madly, he moved roughly inside her, slamming into her again and again, his orgasm already gathering at the base of his spine and his cum poised at the tip of his cock, pulsing, dying to rush out and claim Christy.

As he pounded inside her, he realized with astounding clarity that this was where he belonged, his dick deep between her legs, his tongue deep in her mouth. There weren’t going to be any other guys around her. As there were not going to be other women for him.

“You are my woman. You belong to me. No one else fucks you. No one else touches you. No one else fucking swipes beer from your chin. Get me?” he all but roared.

At his words she moaned into his mouth, and her sex tightened. Then her teeth caught his lip and bit him as her pussy convulsed around him in a rippling contraction that all but stopped his heart. Fuck. He was too far along to be able to fight himself, so he thrust deep into her, grinding himself in her, and came like a madman.

All the strength went out of him through his cock, and he could barely stay standing. He leaned heavily on her, his hand still braced against the door, holding the belt tight.

They were silent for a long while.

“You didn’t use a condom.”

“No, I didn’t.” His offhand tone dared her to give him shit about it. “If you’re expecting me to apologize, you can forget it, because it won’t happen. You’re mine,” he stated, his breath still ragged. There was arousal and lust when he was with her, but there was more to it, and he was past fighting these feelings.

“I’m not. You didn’t want me.”

He gritted his teeth. “I made a mistake.”

“I see. A guy asks me out, and you flip. Don’t want to share pussy, right?”

“This has nothing to do with Zack. I made a mistake,” he repeated. “I want to continue with our…” He waved a hand around. God, look at him. He couldn’t even utter the fucking word.

“Relationship?” she provided.

“Yes, relationship,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

She snorted softly. “You can hardly say the word. I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry.” She seemed to feel pity for him, so she offered him a way out. “Look, I’m going to make it easier on you. We don’t have to do the relationship thing if you don’t feel comfortable with it; we can just continue having sex. If what makes you twitchy is the possibility of me hooking up with someone else, we can agree to keep the sex exclusive. For as long as we are sexually involved, we won’t have sex with anyone else. That should be enough to appease you.”

He looked at her. Was it? Would he be content owning her nights while her days belonged to someone else?

CHRISTY WAS OFFERING him a way out. Praying for him not to take it but offering it nevertheless. She just couldn’t continue with this deal; it was ripping her apart.